


I See the Moon

by weirdgirl42



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdgirl42/pseuds/weirdgirl42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How I thought Belle could have gotten her memory back.  At this point the story is obviously A/U</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything related to OUAT. If I did, Belle would have gotten her memory back before she MURDERED CHIP!!! …Sorry, that one still hurts. Please ask before reprinting or posting anywhere else. At this time I do not want this work posted on any other platforms.

I See the Moon

One of the benefits of living with the Dark One was that he rarely slept. This meant that on the nights when sleep evaded her, Belle could be reasonably sure to find company. She would first make her way to the kitchen, finding peace in the dark stillness of the castle at night. She would boil water for tea, always making enough for two, and then carry the tray to the great hall. More often than not, Rumplestiltskin would be sitting at his wheel, spinning away.

That night, Belle tossed and turned for an hour in bed before she gave up on sleep and put a robe on over her nightgown. The went through the routine of making tea and carrying it into the hall. Rumplestiltskin said nothing when she appeared, though he accepted the offered cup of tea with a nod. Belle took her own cup and sat down next to the enormous fireplace. There were books stacked next to the chair, it was her favorite place to read, but that night she wasn’t in the mood. Instead, she turned in the chair so that she could see out the large window on the other side of the room. The moon was almost full and she could see its light reflecting on the trees.

She wasn’t unhappy in the Dark Castle. Indeed, her sleepless nights were not the product of homesickness or regret. There was, however, loneliness. Rumplestiltskin had certainly warmed to her in the past several months, but coming from a life where she had rarely been alone, the solitude of the castle was sometimes overwhelming. Nights like that one, where the silence was too much to sleep through, she was grateful to come sit next to the fire and listen to him spin.

It could have been hours, or minutes when his voice interrupted her thoughts.

“What’s that you’re humming Dearie?”

Belle startled somewhat. He had never really spoken to her during one of her nighttime excursions. The first time he had inquired as to whether she was alright, but since then he had never said more than yes or no when she asked if he wanted tea. Soon enough she refocused on the question and shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t even know I was doing it.”

“I’m not upset,” Rumplestiltskin said. “Just curious about the tune. You hum it…well you often hum it at night.”

Belle gave a said smile. “Just a song my mother used to sing to me when I was a child.”

His hand stilled at the wheel though he did not look at her. “How does it go?” he asked.

Belle regarded him for a moment. His voice had changed at the last question. The pitch of his voice had dropped and he sounded much less like an imp, much more like a man. When he at last turned and caught her staring, she blushed and looked back to the fire. Hesitantly she began to sing the song that was as familiar to her as her own name.

“I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees somebody I want to see. Gods bless the moon and gods bless me. Gods bless the somebody I want to see.” 

When she was finished, she looked back over at him. Their eyes and Belle swore that his looked dark brown for a moment, instead of the greenish-gold hue they always were. The moment was over all too quickly as they both looked away in embarrassment. Rumplestiltskin went back to his spinning and Belle decided she would try to sleep again.

Back in her room she looked out the window at the moon and wondered if she would ever be brave enough to put words to the things she felt when he looked at her.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moon was her only constant in the tower. Food came at different times of the day. The Queen would come whenever she felt like it, staying only long enough to inflict some measure of pain, be it physical or mental. But the moon, it was as if the moon knew Belle’s predicament and made sure to shine brightly each night so that she could mark another day on her wall.

Some nights, when the sky was particularly clear, she would stare up at the moon and whisper his name. She had heard tales of the Dark One appearing when he was summoned to make a deal. She would concentrate as hard as she could and promise him any deal he wished. She would ask nothing in return but her freedom. She would not ask to come back to the Dark Castle. She would never ask to kiss him again.

He never came. The moon shined down on her face and no one ever came. So she would stare up at the sky and hope that he was okay somewhere. She didn’t believe that he would leave her to suffer, however mad he might have been. So she feared something terrible had happened to him. She stared up at the moon and prayed that he was safe.

“I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees somebody I want to see. Gods bless the moon and gods bless me. Gods bless the somebody I want to see.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

There was nothing to mark the days in the cell. Belle wasn’t sure why this thought always bothered her but it did. There was nothing she could use to keep track of the days that passed. Time seemed both endless and nonexistent. Every so often a woman would appear at her door and stare through the small window at her. Belle remembered how the first few times she had tried to engage with the visitor, but the woman never spoke. The staff that brought her food also never said a word. Belle didn’t remember the last time someone spoke to her.

There was a window in the cell. That was something of a comfort. Once in a while footsteps would echo on the sidewalk outside and Belle could see the feet and legs of people as they passed. But although the window showed the light from the moon at night, it was too small and too close to the ground for Belle to see the sky.

Sometimes, when she dreamed, she dreamed of a giant table and dusting curtains. She dreamed of tea kettles and roaring fires and rows and rows of books. But most of all she dreamed of brown eyes and the creaking of a wooden wheel. She would awaken from these dreams with a gasp and always look to the window, as though maybe that night she would be able to see the moon.

She never could.

So she would pull her knees up to her chest and hum a song she’d forgotten the words to.

XXXXXXXXXX

Everything had gone to hell and Isabelle French was back in the hospital. The man Greg had confused her and no one seemed to be telling her the truth. All she could remember was a dark cell and then being on the street with a man who could throw fire. A man with piercing brown eyes who kissed her when she was sleeping and tried to make her stare at cups. A man that she had wanted to go away, but then when he was gone she found herself missing in spite of herself.

The scary woman, Regina had asked for a favor. A dagger hidden in library. She had meant to turn it over, it meant nothing to her, then all hell had broken loose. The man came rushing in and threw the scary woman against the wall as if by magic. Another woman, Regina’s mother, had gone for Isabelle. The mother must have done something terrible because the next thing Isabelle knew she was back in the hospital with a vague memory of an arm inside her chest.

The machines around her beeped and Isabelle closed her eyes, trying to make the images in her head stop swimming. There were footsteps in the room. Isabelle kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. The steps grew closer and she counted three steps at a time instead of two. It was the man, the man with the cane.

Isabelle felt scared and relieved at the same time. She had missed him while he was gone, yes. But the last few days had done nothing but confuse her, and the last few hours had terrified her completely. So she remained still and hoped he would not see through the ruse.

The footsteps stopped near the bed and Isabelle wondered if he was going to kiss her again. But no touch of any kind came soon his footsteps moved towards the window on the far side of the room. When the man made no move back towards her, Isabelle slowly opened one eyes and saw that he was standing next to the window, staring up at the small sliver of moon visible in the clear sky. After a moment, she realized he was humming softly. As she listened to the simple tune she realized that tears were falling down both of their cheeks.

It didn’t hit her like a lightning bolt. It didn’t hit her like a train or any other forceful stereotype. Instead, it was as if she had opened a book to her own life. It was just there, laid out in front of her. Smiling through her tears she softly began to sing.

“I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees somebody I want to see. Gods bless the moon and gods bless me. Gods bless the somebody I want to see.” 

The man, Rumplestiltskin as she was now well aware, turned sharply towards her at the first sound of her voice. By the time the song was through, he had fallen into the chair next to her bed, his head resting gently on her stomach. She ran her hand through his hair as she watched his shoulders shake in silent sobs.

“Belle,” he whispered against her. “Belle I’m sorry.”

“Hush,” she said. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I almost gave Regina your dagger, I could have killed you.”

Rumplestiltskin straightened and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her eyes and her cheeks and her lips and rested his forehead against her. “No more forgetting,” he said through his tears. 

Belle smiled. “Deal.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
